


It's Such A Wonderful Thing To Love

by deandratb



Series: The Best of the Best and the Worst of the Worst [7]
Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other, unrelated pieces of different stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:10:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Unfinished stories from One Day At A Time that may or may not be pulled out of this collection and completed someday. Read at your own risk; I just needed them to have a more-organized home.





	1. The Good Ones Always Seem To Break

**Author's Note:**

> These are INCOMPLETE stories. These scenes have been sitting in my drafts waiting for me to finish them, and have not been betaed, so please keep that in mind if you read.
> 
> You're welcome to give your opinion and I don't mind if you ask me to return to working on the ones you like--just be aware that I might never do so. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after Lydia's sangria, when Penelope woke up naked in the tub with her hair French-braided...a story only Schneider remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this idea, it delights me, and I definitely want to finish it. It's just lower priority than other WIPs.

Dr. Berkowitz’s birthday party was not Schneider’s first time dealing with a woman too drunk to know what she was doing. It wasn’t even his first time dealing with a married lady drunk on Lydia’s sangria, though he knew Penelope didn’t remember that.

_Thirty minutes that Penelope doesn’t remember. Thirty minutes Schneider will never forget. Inspired by Penelope’s line in “Strays.”_

**** 

“Mom hates surprise parties, _Abuelita,_ ” Elena said, shaking her head at the dining room table while Alex helped in the kitchen. “Dad threw her one a few years ago and he almost ended up with a face full of chocolate frosting.”

“It has been too long since we could all be together for her birthday,” Lydia replied, waving the objection away. “And now, _ju_ are here. We are going to celebrate!”

Rolling her eyes, Elena took the markers she was handed and got to work on decorations.

Lydia made three pitchers of sangria and called everyone she knew. Since her daughter had only been back a few weeks, there wasn’t time to find any of Lupe’s old friends--but she was determined to welcome her home.

She had seemed so sad since separating from Victor. Their marriage would come out stronger in the end, of that Lydia was sure, but sometimes two people needed a little room to breathe. Especially when those two people were very passionate...and very stubborn.

So while Lupe breathed, her _Mami_ cooked and gathered neighbors and turned the music up. She transformed her apartment--the whole family’s apartment once more--into the perfect space for a dozen people to hide.

And that was how Penelope came home from work to a surprise birthday party that triggered a panic attack.

****

She hadn’t meant to get drunk. After everything with Victor, the last thing she set out to do these days was get drunk--especially so drunk that she wouldn’t remember what came after.

But between the tightness in her chest that refused to ease even as her kids hugged her hello, her _Mami’s_ pointed comments to the guests about her **temporary** separation, and the wax candles melting away like years of her life...Penelope was just hoping to make it through the night.

So she had sangria with her birthday dinner, and more with cake, until she was relaxed enough to dance with the strangers her mom had invited up for the party.

Dancing with strangers reminded her of dancing with Victor, up late while the kids were sleeping, his hands in her hair and mouth against the slope of her neck.

But that was okay--there was more sangria. She sipped between songs and tried to drown the memories.

****

Schneider heard the music from the hall before he knocked. After two tries he gave up and let himself in.

“Ah, Schneider!” Lydia was dancing with a man half her age near the couch; she beamed her hello. “You are late to the party!”

“I didn’t know you were having a party.” He ran a hand through his hair and smiled back before he let himself enjoy the spectacle. All ages, mostly Cuban--mostly drunk. A lot of very happy people. “You told me your bathroom sink was leaking, remember?”

“Oh, yes. Well, come in! You can take a look, and stay for cake.”

“There’s cake?”

“It is Lupe’s birthday.”

“Gotcha.” Schneider didn’t see Penelope in the living room. Since there were more people in the kitchen and on the balcony, he shrugged and promised himself he’d find her on the way out.

Carrying his tools down the hall, Schneider froze as the music paused long enough for him to hear the undeniable sound of crying. It was coming from Penelope’s room, where her door wasn’t fully shut.

Lydia was dancing, he thought, mentally backtracking his walk through the apartment. Alex was eating ice cream in the kitchen, Elena was reading while the fun flowed around her...either an intruder was having a breakdown in Penelope’s bedroom or she was not okay.

It didn’t occur to him to hesitate; impulse control remained a work in progress. Schneider tapped lightly as a warning and then nudged the door open the rest of the way.

Penelope was curled up on her bed, wearing a bright blue dress that was falling off one shoulder. Her hair had clearly been styled at some point, but now it was covering her face while she sobbed against her hands.

Everything about the picture in front of him was wrong.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He set his tools on the floor near the door and shut it behind him, knowing how mortified Penelope would be if anyone else followed him in and saw her. Honestly, he was lucky she had yet to hit him for intruding.

As soon as Schneider got close enough to smell the alcohol on her breath, he understood why. And the sobbing made a lot more sense. She was still crying like she hadn’t heard him come in.

“Penelope?”

She sniffled loudly and scrubbed at her face, blinking at Schneider as though he’d only just appeared.

“Schneider? My mom told you too? Wow, she really did invite everybody, huh.”

“Yesterday your mom asked me to stop by and fix the sink,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. “But it turns out there’s a party going on out there. Weird, right?”

“Not weird. Fantastic.” She reached for the cup on her nightstand and took two hard swallows while he blinked at her. “It’s my birthday.”

“I heard.”

Frowning, he tried to figure out the best way to broach the subject. “So...birthdays.”

Penelope set the cup back down, empty now. “Yeah.”

“Usually, happy occasions.”

“I know.”

“Well, I know I’m just the landlord and it’s really none of my business, but you shouldn’t be spending your birthday miserable and alone. What’s going on?”

**** 

He tried to comfort her about her marriage, her broken heart, and when she realized what a mess she was, he offered to braid her hair. Learned it from a nanny, he told her, adding with a grin that he could also give a pretty decent manicure.

She told him that he would make a great dad to a daughter, and argued with him when he tried to wave that away. The whole point of recovery, she insisted, was to make amends and find a way to forgive yourself, and clearly he was trying.

Soft and open and tipsy, Penelope sat next to him in easy silence, and Schneider got up off the bed before anything regrettable might happen. Not that he thought it would, really, but just in case. Something about the way she was looking at him; backing away just felt safer.

Penelope decided that a bubble bath would make her feel better and before Schneider left her alone she called for him. He asked if she wasn't feeling well, waited until she invited him to come in--then regretted it, because she was...well, exposed.

She seemed remarkably comfortable with him there, but he was certain that Penelope sober would hate him for seeing even a little bit of her in the tub. So he swore in that moment that he would never mention the incident, or the party, or birthdays ever again, just to be safe.

On his way out of the bathroom, Schneider gently suggested that she pull the plug before she passed out.

****

He saw beyond those careful walls of hers, and she was beautiful in pieces. She recognized how lonely and broken he was, and told him he was capable of more. Silly as it sounded, that half hour was the start of everything. 

That night that only Schneider clearly recalled-- _because it’s always interesting to be the sober one at a dinner party_ \--was the night he first became friends with Penelope Alvarez.

Who woke up naked and alone in a bathtub with no memories to speak of...and a careful French braid plaited into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.


	2. I Think I'd Be Good For You And You'd Be Good For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope decides that maybe she and Schneider should give dating a try and he takes her out to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was given a title prompt for this one and while it's a straightforward concept, I want to write the whole date, so it's going to take some time to finish.

Schneider was having his Saturday morning _cafecito_ when Penelope met him in the kitchen, dressed for the day but covering a yawn.

“Morning!”

“Hey, Schneider. What are you doing tonight?”

Since he still wasn’t fully awake, it took him a second to register the question. “Why? Do you need me watch Alex?”

She shook her head, keeping an eye on the hallway as she spoke. The rest of the family was out of earshot, and she preferred to keep it that way. “Elena’s having dinner with Syd’s family, and _Mami_ insisted on taking Alex shopping later, like what my son needs is more stuff. They’ll eat at the mall.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So when I get home from work tonight, I’ll be on my own. You’ve probably got plans, but...”

“I eat with you guys, you know that. Looks like I’m suddenly available, too. What were you thinking?”

“I thought you might want to go out. To dinner.”

“With you?”

Penelope frowned. “No, with my cousin Consuelo. Of course, with me!”

“Okay, okay. I just had to ask. This is weird.”

“What’s weird? We eat together all the time, like you said.”

“Yeah, as a family. This would be...well,” Schneider hesitated before plunging in, “maybe I’m reading the situation wrong. But it kinda feels like you’re asking me on a date.”

He resisted the urge to protect his face. Two years ago, Penelope Alvarez might have hit him for even hinting at that.

Today’s Penelope didn’t, though. She was watching him with the slightest quirk of her lips, making Schneider wonder if she knew what he was thinking.

Out loud, she said, “Yes. Or I’m asking you to ask me on a date. That would work too.”

“Huh. Okay.” Schneider nodded to himself for a second, then grinned. “There’s this great new place, I keep meaning to try it... Penelope, will you have dinner with me? I’d love to take you.”

She blinked up at him. “You know you didn’t need to do the formal ask, right? I already invited you. We can go for a bite somewhere, no big deal.”

“Hey,” he protested, shaking his head. “You gave me the opening. I’m asking. The restaurant’s Italian, but fun--not stuffy. I think we would have a really good time.”

“No limo though; we take the Range Rover.”

Schneider offered her his most charming smile. “As you wish.”

“Then yes, Schneider. I would love to go to dinner with you.”

****

He'd seemed thrown by her suggestion, but Penelope had to admit that Schneider recovered well.

When they agreed on 6pm, she'd been grateful for the extra fifteen minutes that gave her to get ready. She was even more grateful when she answered the door and his mouth fell open.

“Wow.”

She had a summery dress on, rich violet and clinging in all the right places, that she had been holding on to for ages. The night before she was supposed to need it Elena had gone to the hospital, and ever since, Penelope had secretly thought of it as the “appendicitis dress.” But she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it--not when it made her legs look amazing and had never left her closet. Faced with a speechless Schneider, it had definitely been the right call.

“Thanks. You look good too.”

He was wearing black slacks and a button down in deep green that made his eyes seem brighter somehow, with his hair a little tousled, and it continued to amaze her that he could switch between different styles so easily. Some of them worked better than others, but he never seemed self-conscious about it. Maybe that was part of what made him so attractive--not caring, either way.

Penelope grinned at him, then lifted an eyebrow when he kept staring.

“Schneider? You have seen me in a dress before.”

He shook his head in response, but not at her. More like he was shaking himself out of a thought. As soon as he focused back in, the moment passed. “Yeah, I have. But come on.”

“What?”

“This time you got dressed up to go out with me, Penelope...and only an idiot could look at you and not be struck dumb. You’re gorgeous.”

“Well.” Torn between the reflex of shrugging Schneider off and the very real pull she felt toward him, Penelope grabbed her purse and smiled as though nothing about tonight was confusing at all. “You clean up good, too. We should go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "El Scorcho" by Weezer.


	3. Thought I Was Flying But Maybe I'm Dying Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schneider's sobriety is violated and Penelope comes to his rescue; his recovery draws them closer and brings hidden truths to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst with more angst. The plot of this came from a fic request, the gist of which was 'what if Schneider fell off the wagon against his will?' I think could be an amazing story--it's just so hard to write. I'm not an addiction expert, so I worry about handling such a sensitive topic...plus I love Schneider and don't like to hurt him.

_Penelope,_ Schneider texted her at 10:23pm. _Hey, whatcha doing?_

She was cramming in extra studying, taking advantage of the way the apartment settled down with everyone else asleep. So Penelope glanced at his text, then set her phone aside and returned to her books. He could wait.

It was after midnight when she cleared everything off her bed and went to set the alarm on her phone.

“Oh, crap.” Now she had six more missed messages. What were the odds they were all Schneider?

He was probably just looking for somebody to bother. Penelope considered leaving them until morning, but the slight twinge of guilt stopped her. What if it was an emergency? Not a Schneider-style “my favorite yoga mat has been discontinued” crisis, but an actual emergency?

He liked to text her too much, especially when he was bored...but not usually this late. Not when he knew she would be sleeping.

Frowning, she tapped on his name.

_10:49pm. Are you busy?_

_11:17pm. Sorry, you’re probably asleep. Never mind._

_11:40pm. Pen? Are you there?_

_11:58pm. Penelope_

_12:07am. Pen L O P_

_12:09am. hey your name is letters_

His last message was a weird one, even for Schneider. Was that supposed to be a joke or something? If she didn’t know better...

Penelope froze with her face in her hands. As soon as the thought hit her, she knew. Somehow she just felt it.

_If she didn’t know better, she would think Schneider was drunk. Or high._

It had been twenty minutes since he sent her that last message. A lot could happen in twenty minutes.

“Calm down,” she told herself as she pulled a sweatshirt on and found yesterday’s pants. “Even if something happened, and you don’t know that it did, he probably just called his sponsor and then he didn’t need to text you anymore.”

But the chill down Penelope’s spine wasn’t listening to reason. Though she only knew a fraction of what Schneider’s life had been like before he got clean, she had heard enough. It wasn’t pretty then, and if he had relapsed after seven years clean...how much worse would that be?

By the time she was dressed and on her way out of her room, Penelope had decided that texting Schneider wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t wait for him to get back to her. She needed to hear that he was okay, in his voice...to know from his tone that it was true.

Too many years with Victor, slurred conversations when he insisted nothing was wrong. Too many nights that felt a lot like this, actually--only back then it was tiny Elena waking to watch her with concern. Now it was her _Mami,_ peering out from behind her curtain, roused by Penelope's footsteps in the hall.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Penelope kissed her mother’s cheek, not stopping to explain. There wasn’t time. There would be time once she knew Schneider was safe.

 _He’s not your responsibility,_ a small voice in her head scolded.

 _Who else is going to look after him, if I don’t?_ she shot back.

She dialed his number as soon as the apartment door shut behind her.

One ring...two rings...three. Penelope tapped her fingers against the elevator door while she waited. She never called him--he had to know it was important.

_Why wasn’t he picking up?_

Walking to her car, ignoring the second transfer to his voicemail, she was certain something was very wrong.

Then Schneider called back.

“Hey girl,” she heard him shout over the pounding thud of heavy bass. “Wassup?”

“Schneider, why aren’t you answering your phone? You stopped texting. Are you okay?”

“‘S'loud here,” Schneider said, pausing to say something muffled away from the phone. “I didn’t hear you call. You okay?”

“Me? I am fine!” Penelope knew now that he wasn’t.

She remembered meeting Schneider when they moved in after Elena was born. She remembered that guy, with the frosted hair, who she found passed out on the roof a day later--who she ran into partying in the elevator a few nights after that.

That weird, relaxed tone, the way his words were pitched just a little wrong...Schneider sounded like he did before he got sober. Her heart sank.

“Schneider.”

All she heard was static, and that fucking obnoxious bass. She got into her car and dug deep for patience.

“Schneider!”

“Yeah, yeah. Penelope?”

“Tell me where you are. Right. Now.”

“Oh. I...am at the club. You wanna dance?”

Penelope laid her forehead against the steering wheel, taking one slow, deep breath. She had to keep it together until she made it to Schneider--and beat the crap out of him. “I want to come find you. What club?”

“Downtown.”

She started the car. “Come on, Schneider. Help me out. Downtown where? What’s the name?”

“I’m Schneider.”

Swearing, Penelope shifted into reverse and tried again. “What does the sign above the door say?”

“Ah. Exit!”

“And when you came in?”

“Mmm...” She held her breath for one endless, terrified moment, in which she imagined seventeen ways Schneider could end up dead or injured before she found him. Then with obvious effort, he added, “Galaxy.”

Penelope exhaled.

“Don’t leave the club, okay? You hear me? Stay there. I’m coming.”

She plugged the name into her phone, then copied the address to her GPS. As she pulled out of the driveway, Penelope prayed to her _Mami’s_ god, in both English and Spanish, that she wasn’t too late.

****

Schneider’s taste in clubs was terrible. Penelope even had to pay to get in--what happened to ‘ladies drink free?’

The place was packed with skinny white girls and men who were even more grossly hip than Schneider. Bleached, plucked, tanned, waxed--as she shoved her way through the crowd, Penelope found she had a new appreciation for his rangy scruff. At least Schneider looked like a guy...a weird guy, but still.

**** 

The men at Schneider’s table were as high as he was, possibly worse. “Hey hey **hey** ,” the blonde one said, trying to grab her ass from where he sat. “Schneider never told us about his hot Latin wife. Hola, chica.”

She leaned close so that he’d be able to hear her over the noise. “I will break that arm.”

“Ay, she’s got fire!” Blonde Guy elbowed his bearded friend with a sloppy grin. “Schneider’s luck has improved.”

“I am his **friend** ,” Penelope snapped, dismissing them all with a look. She stopped less than an inch from Schneider and tried to block out the others.

"Drunken fun time is over," she said, watching as his confused, bloodshot eyes met hers. 

“‘M not drunk,” Schneider protested. Then he laughed, a hollow and not-at-all-funny sound. “I think I’m wrecked.”

“Yeah, Moose Man’s bombed!” The blonde idiot cheered, high-fiving the man to his left.

“Moose Man? You know what, never mind,” she rushed to add. “Schneider, do you even know these _bobos_?”

“Oh, we all go way back,” Blonde Guy announced. “Been friends for years.”

Penelope clenched her fingers into fists. “If you are his friends, then you would have tried to talk him out of this!”

“Calm down, mama. He’s just having fun. We’re all here for a good time, am I right?”

“He’s been sober for seven years,” she snapped. “He wouldn’t blow that for no reason. What the hell happened, Schneider?”

Schneider was humming to himself in the corner of the booth, checked out of the conversation. It was his blonde friend, who Penelope was fighting the strong urge to use military tactics on, that answered instead.

“He’s been boring for seven years. Look, you’re a fine piece of ass and all, but if you’re not his wife or his girlfriend, if you’re, like, his sponsor or whatever, give the dude a break. He deserved some fun.”

“Fun?? _Yo voy a matar a este tipo,_ ” she told the ceiling, not bothering to lower her tone. If Schneider’s so-called friends understood any words in Spanish that weren’t on the Taco Bell menu, she’d die of shock.

“It’s time to go, Schneider. You’re coming with me, and we’re going to call your sponsor and get you sobered up.”

“Don’t want to talk to him,” he replied, shaking his head. “No idea what to say.”

“You’ll tell him what happened. You can practice by telling me on the way home.”

**** 

“Giving people the benefit of the doubt doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s who you are. And I love that about you. Could you have exercised better judgement? Probably. But so could everybody. I almost took back my ex, after all of that...you remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.


	4. Tell Me What You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope decides to take Nikki's advice after she and Max break up, and try a real casual relationship. She asks Schneider to be that guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another idea I like and just haven't dedicated the time to yet. It's 100% inspired by the way Nikki tells Penelope "you should get one!" and means a sex friend like Schneider. Because, well, Schneider is right there. And friendly.

She was wearing pajamas with bright red flowers on them when Schneider answered her knock. “Hey, are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” It was after one in the morning, which in the beginning of their friendship would have called for flirtation when Penelope showed up at his door.

These days, Schneider jumped right to concern.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Taking a seat, she shook her head and followed that with a brisk “No. Not exactly.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m lonely,” Penelope admitted, while he watched her with those kind eyes of his and said nothing. “It’s been six months since I was...with somebody, you know? I’m tired of being alone.”

If it seemed strange to Schneider that she would bring her feelings to him when she had a loving family and a support group, he didn’t give that away.

"But nothing's changed since Max--if anything, my schedule is even crazier this year. I don't have time to do the girlfriend thing. And honestly, I'm not even sure I want to anymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I've thought about it a lot, and when you were with Nikki--when I said what I did about casual sex--I was wrong about it. The time I spent with Max proves that I can enjoy a casual thing. Really, the mistake I made was letting it get serious.”

“Oh, come on, Pen. You’re someone who likes getting attached and settled. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Schneider looked guilty, like maybe this late night chat or her loneliness itself was his fault somehow, and it was that concern that rushed her along.

She had meant to lead in more to why she was there; she had meant to handle it all with care. Instead she blurted, “Thanks. But that’s not what I want. And what I do want, I need to ask your help with.”

“Oh. Sure. How can I help? Is it a dating app thing again? You know I am the _maestro_ at those.”

Penelope shook her head. “No apps. No strangers. That part where you build a foundation and establish trust, the lead-up to a relationship...that’s the part I don’t have time for. Or interest in right now.”

“Okay, so then what?” Schneider was frowning until his eyes lit up. “You want me to introduce you to somebody I know! I can do that. I mean, I don’t know any dudes worthy of you, but I can at least help you get back out there. Let me think.”

God only knew the men he spent time with, the ones he would consider for her. “Schneider! Ew.”

She grabbed both of his shoulders to get him to look at her, and kept holding on once he was. “I have no interest in you setting me up with some guy you know. Got it?”

“Got it. Calm down. If not that, then what?”

“Well...are you seeing anybody lately?"

He blinked. “No, not for a while. I’ve been busy.” His eyes widened. “Do you want me to...Penelope, are you asking me to set you up with one of my exes? Cuz I didn’t think you, well, were inclined that way.”

She sighed and shook her head, with her hands still resting on his shoulders. “This was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Okay, but I don’t know why you did.”

Schneider curled his fingers around one of her wrists, searching her face. “What’s going on?”

Before she could change her mind, Penelope linked her hands behind his neck and leaned in.

His gaze stayed fixed on her when she brushed her lips over his. She watched Schneider’s bright eyes cloud before he kissed her back. Then, as though he had simply forgotten where he was for a second, he pulled away.

“Really though--what’s going on?”

“I had an idea,” she said with a smile.

“About you and me?” Schneider’s brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t that, well, complicate things?”

“It could get complicated,” she agreed, “if we let it get that way. Or it could be simple.”

Penelope leaned in again, enough to feel the sharp breath Schneider drew before their lips met--and his shallow exhale when she didn’t close the tiny distance that still separated them.

She had already made her choice--but she stayed right there, so close she was almost pressed into him, and waited for Schneider to decide. 

****

They only have two rules: they don’t tell anybody, and they don’t make it weird.

The first one came from Penelope, because she can’t think of a single way to start the conversation with her kids or her mom that doesn’t end with all of them looking at her like she’s lost her freaking mind.

Which she has a little, probably, she’s willing to admit, but she doesn’t need them to say it.

The second one was at Schneider’s insistence, because their routine and his place in her family is just too important.

She gets that. So they have two rules, and they don’t break them.

But they find a lot of ways to work their new…thing into their normal lives, without telling anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "Hunger" by Florence and the Machine.


	5. Who I Was Back Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over time, Elena and her father rebuild their relationship on a stronger foundation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This comes from a request I got for a story where Victor deals with his homophobia, accepts Elena, and apologizes. It's hard for me to write because the father/daughter dynamic isn't one I personally know anything about, it feels completely alien--but I think it's a great idea, and would be a long story because it's not an easy relationship between them to mend.

“What you won’t be able to understand until you’re a parent someday,” her _Papi_ says, looking at his hands while he chooses his words carefully, “is that having kids…having a daughter–it’s terrifying. You know what it was like for me in the Army?”

Elena nods.

“Your _Mami_ and I, we tried to keep all of that away from you, but I know you, Elena. I know you know.”

“Yeah. It was bad.”

“It was. It was really…bad.”

Victor looks up at her, to say the rest. “But none of that was as scary as the first time I held you in my arms. I know, that’s one of those things people say, and it sounds totally cheesy and you can’t believe it until you’re there. But it’s true. There you were, this whole new defenseless person, and I was the only thing standing between you and the world.”

“I knew that world,” he tries to explain. “I got shot at in that world. I got beat up in that world, and told I was worthless just for being brown. And I was supposed to just…send you out in it? Watch you get hurt? It’s hard to explain, but even tough guys like me get scared, when they’re dads too.”

Elena shook her head. “You act like I’m still a little kid, but I’m not. I know you love me, I know you’ve always tried to protect me. I think–I even think that’s why you almost…why we left the house that time. Mom was mad, and scared, but I think when you almost left us, it was because you thought we would be better off without you.”

****

He tries to explain about 9/11, about the lives they almost had. About how he’s never been able to understand her, not from the first moment she clearly turned into her own person–and that’s hard for a father to admit, just like admitting he can’t protect her, or that he’s who she needed protecting from.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "Grace" by Florence and the Machine.


	6. How Does It Feel, Now You've Scratched That Itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope and Schneider face the consequences of a one-night stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a fun, tricky prompt that I just haven't worked on very much yet.

If Penelope had learned one thing by now, it was that when she made a mistake, the best way to handle it was to be proactive. A quick response. Decisive action. No excuses.

It didn’t matter if it was something simple, like forgetting to pay a bill, or something more complicated...like, say, a totally unexpected, unplanned night of sex with her best friend.

Obviously, that was a mistake of epic proportions--one that had to be dealt with as soon as she came to her senses.

She came to her senses before her clothes were even back on.

Still flushed and panting, lying in Schneider’s bed, Penelope brushed her hair out of the way and stared him down.

"That can not happen again."

She wanted his immediate agreement. She wanted classic Schneider awkwardness, burying his anxiety under faux chill so they could both pretend neither one of them even remembered this night.

Instead, he just looked at her with those summer-blue eyes, trapping her with the seriousness of his reply.

"Why not?"

****

_It all started with an argument._

_Penelope had stormed up to his apartment, and as soon as he opened the door she was in his space, yelling at him about spending too much money on her kids lately, taking them out for things it was her job to provide even when he knew she wouldn’t like it._

_Schneider was arguing back in a brittle, cool tone about how he had the money to spare and she needed to learn to take help instead of being so freaking stubborn. He trailed off as she plopped down on his couch, shaking her head._

_"We're fighting."_

_"Yeah."_

_"We never fight."_

_"I know." Schneider sat down next to her, resting his hands against his pants pockets. The metal buckles on them made a quiet clicking sound as his fingers tapped them._

_Penelope tried to steady her breathing and take deep breaths. "Why do you think that is?"_

_"What do you mean?" Click, click, click._

_"I mean, I never really thought about it before, but you're like the one person I don't fight with. Why is that?"_

_It was the tension still lingering in the air that laced his voice with uncharacteristic sarcasm. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because while you're getting upset at people, I put all my energy into holding back."_

_So much for calming down._

_"Holding back? You never hold back anything. You're constantly--God, would you stop that?" She snapped as the sound of his fingers on the buckles hit her last nerve._

_"I never hold back anything? Penelope, why do you think I'm keeping my hands busy in the first place?"_

_She had just enough time to stare blankly at him and hear what sounded like a very uncharacteristic "Fuck it" before Schneider's hands were in her hair and his mouth was on hers. When he pulled back, he breathed into the curve of her neck, pressing frustrated words there with his lips between kisses._

_"I just wanted to help. I needed to help you. That's what you do when you love somebody."_

_She knew Schneider loved her. Just like she and her whole family loved Schneider--messy, unconventional love, but very real._

_But that wasn't the same as knowing that Schneider **loved** her. Maybe she should have known, maybe she was an idiot...maybe the moan that escaped her when he found that spot behind her ear was the reason his hands moved from her hair to her hips._

_Whatever turned the tide, it never occurred to her to stop and think that it was Schneider touching her, that this was supposed to be the last thing she wanted._

_Instead, she wanted him so much in that moment that she was the one who got up and locked his door._

_She had told him once she didn’t like casual sex, and she meant it. The air in the room was electric, she felt like she was on fire, and she had Schneider’s shirt off before his hands even made it under hers. While the heat between them was sudden, there was nothing casual about it._

_It had been a long time coming, building up between them in every exchange where he didn't quite say what he was thinking and she didn't bother to hold back, in every night when she came to his door uninvited and he welcomed her without question._

_Even so, Schneider seemed surprised that she hadn't shoved him out the door of his own apartment after he kissed her--and then punched him. He looked that shocked, like he fully expected to risk injury but had gone for it anyway._

_He could be such an idiot, Penelope thought on the way to his room, but he was **her** idiot._

****

“What do you mean, why not?” She huffed out a breath and shoved herself up, taking part of the sheet along so it was covering her where she sat. “This was a fluke. A-a glitch. We have to go back to the way life was before it happened.”

“It did happen,” Schneider replied, still annoyingly calm. “And we both wanted it to. Maybe you’re regretting it now--I’m not, by the way--but that was consensual sex, Penelope. And enthusiastic, to boot.”

She glared at him, unwilling to concede his point and unable to argue with it. He had her nail marks down his back.

“I’m not saying anything has to change,” Schneider added, stretched out next to her under the covers. “But if it did, would that be so bad?”

“Of course it would be! It would--we would--” Penelope bit her lower lip. "Life is complicated enough right now, with Elena about to graduate, and Alex's hormones off the charts, and _Mami_ getting older. For everybody’s sake, we need to go back to being just friends, like we were before tonight."

He nodded. "So, when you say ‘everybody,’ I’m assuming you mean you. For your sake. Because you're not psychic, and you can't know how us having a thing would affect anybody else."

Reaching up to touch her face, Schneider added, "I get that your life is complicated, Pen. I'm in it, so I see that. But even if I wanted to pretend like this didn't happen, it wouldn't change anything. It's too late. We weren't just friends before tonight, or we wouldn't be here now. We haven't been just friends for a while."

Penelope frowned. Schneider this determined, this serious, was always a surprise. And way too attractive.

"Go ahead," he challenged her, sitting up without bothering to hang on to the sheet. "Tell me I'm wrong."

She blinked first. "Damn it," she said to Schneider or herself or God, she couldn't be sure, and then she was half in his lap with the sheet behind her, ruining any chance she had of sticking with her 'fluke' argument.

 ****

Running her hands through his hair was a deeply satisfying experience, the kind of thing she'd secretly always wanted to do because she wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

It was, and so was the little sound he made in response to her touch.

She was touching Schneider, and there should definitely be some weirdness in that, but there was only the way his eyes widened, owlish after she removed his glasses, clouding over when her hands trailed down his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "100 Years" by Florence and the Machine.


	7. Five Times Penelope Goes To Schneider’s Door, And One Time She Doesn’t

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When did Penelope first go to Schneider, before it slowly grew into a habit? And what changed between them when Schneider turned the tables for the very first time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An idea from a friend, who suggested I write the very first time Penelope went to Schneider's door pre-canon, only I can never keep anything simple so I expanded the concept...which clearly I haven't worked on much yet.

III.

_Alex won’t talk to her, Victor is AWOL since the quinces. Schneider finds out it’s about sex. Their talk includes porn._

“Oh god, and you told him where to find the really gross stuff.”

Schneider frowns. “No, I told him that it’s not like actual sex, and that women mostly don’t like the stuff men do in those videos.”


	8. My Heart Bends And Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consoling each other after Lydia's death fractures Schneider and Penelope's friendship, and Penelope pushes him away. In the wake of losing her too, Schneider is inconsolable--and no longer sober. His best friend is the only one who might have a chance at getting through to him, if she can set aside her own grief and confusion long enough to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the cruelest request I have ever gotten but an idea I desperately want to write...it just hurts so I haven't made it very far.

“You have to call your sponsor, Schneider. You have to stop. This is going to get you killed. And we need you.”

He waves a hand, and almost topples over from the effort. “Ah, you don’t need me, Penelope Alvarez. You don’t need anybody. You’re tough.”

Schneider turns his back on her, but she still hears the whisper that follows. “Nobody needs me anymore.”

“Hey.”

He doesn’t turn around, so she crosses the few feet he has put between them, and hovers. If she reaches out, would he slap back?

_In his position, she would._

“Schneider. Schneider, hey. Look at me. Can you do that?”

His eyes are red-rimmed, the swelling easy to see without his glasses providing cover. She wonders where his glasses are, if he’s wearing contacts…then she shakes her head and focuses back in.

****

Everything hurts, a tearing pain in her chest that she dimly recognizes as heartbreak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from "100 Years" by Florence and the Machine.


	9. You Don't Have To Be Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deleted scene fic; Penelope's hurtful words stick with Schneider even though he tries to move on. When he finds out about Victor's return from Elena, he broaches the subject with Penelope and the truth comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to write this, because while I love that Schneider's easy forgiveness of Penelope tells us so much about who he is, I still would have liked to see him acknowledge that what she thinks of him matters. And also somebody pointed out that Schneider isn't present at all for Victor's return which means that when he runs into Penelope off her meds, he probably hadn't seen her in a while. I just want to explore all of that and their relationship in that time period.

A discussion of what Penelope said, where Schneider doesn’t wave it away and instead admits that it hurt. After she says it, he worries that’s secretly what she really thinks of him.

Paired with an examination of how she avoided him during and after Victor’s reappearance, when normally she brings him all her problems, so he heard about it secondhand and he noticed her going off her meds right away because that was the first time he had seen her in a while.


	10. Open Prompt Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storage space for all the ideas I haven't begun writing yet but want to save for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of these ideas are prompts I received via tumblr that I don't expect write anytime soon. If anything you see here inspires you to write something, please link me to it! I would love to know.

Alvareider, established relationship where Penelope worries Schneider deserves to have kids 

Alvareider, 'things you said in the dark,' Schneider confesses he’s afraid of the dark while she helps him fix the power

Alvareider, Schneider looking back on his relationship with Penelope the day before he dies

Alvareider, soulmate colors AU

Alvareider, Schneider scolded by Lydia for helping Penelope use dating apps when he's in love with her

Alvareider, Penelope taking care of feverish, delirious, very cuddly Schneider

Alvareider, sick Schneider deliriously confessing his love

Alvareider, one is jealous of attention the other is getting

Alvareider, Schneider stops dating "i can't keep on kissing strangers and pretending that they're you" 

Alvareider, lots of pining

Alvareider, Schneider gives Penelope a seahorse for her birthday 

Avareider, Schneider asking Pen to marry him, bonus if he gets Lydia’s blessing first

Alvareider with a baby

Sylena living together fluff, rise

Sylena, laser tag date that turns really competitive

Someone else driving Schneider's Range Rover 

Elena having depression, bringing the gun back in a family fic 

Penelope, grief

Lydia in the hospital, flan

Penelope and Lydia, opera

 

**Author's Note:**

> Story title borrowed from "Patricia" by Florence and the Machine.


End file.
